Short Osseous Poems

Not for the first time
he dreams these flying dreams.
He senses wings
under broad scapular bones.

Waves of a latent energy
undulate across his back,
the world below him
is buoyant, his flight effortless.

That night his body
seemed to open osseous doors
as if his present form
were a burial chamber.

What came forth
what came out of him
was hard to see

for it was resurrected
as a wing for the sky....

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